Education From Within
by Sareya
Summary: Two refugee educators are welcomed into the Xavier Institute and finally able to begin new, peaceful lives. As time wears on, however, the X Men begin to realize a truth beyond their deepest fears: Their enemy has coupled with the Brotherhoood.
1. Night Flight

"Get moving!"

A voice pierced the silence of the quiet New England night, just before the hour that would bring with it the next 'official' day. Within a dark alley that still wouldn't see daylight for another six or seven hours, several muffled thuds and crashes introduced the fast approach of some…Thing. Behind it, more distanced sounds, indicating that this thing had a follower.

"Keep going!" That same voice urged it's follower on, and a gray-scaled hand reached from the darkness into the dim light of the streetlamps. A smaller hand, this one without talons and scales alike, reached to grasp the help offered, jerking as an unexpected and unseen obstacle tripped her up. Together, they rushed onward, moving though shadows and along walls as though in hopes of not being detected.

Following the clatters and crashes of the pair by perhaps about nine or ten seconds, a scampering rumble of boot-steps chased the rogues, guns and bladed weapons poised, shouts quiet yet still angry and malicious.

Suddenly, the gray-scaled figure pressed her partner against a wall to her left, covering the smaller form with her own, a set of almost serpentine, bat-like wings surrounded both. With only a large trash bin to shadow them from being seen, Viikayri had faith that their pursuers would be too focused to think and look to their side and see the poorly camouflaged pair. That faith had been well-placed, for only a few moments later the rumbling group passed them, unseeing and unawares. Tentatively relaxing a few silent moments later, the exotic-looking, very sentient creature lowered her hands from her partners head and once again covered her gray wings with her darker trench coat, watching carefully with reflective green eyes as their pursuers disappeared into the darkened distance. Finally, the taller woman turned to her accomplice with a reassuring smile.

"It's over." The same deep, almost melodic voice that had desperately encouraged her partner to move a few stirring moments earlier.

A grim look of set determination returned the smile, eyes of what appeared to be speckled gold now leveling with the bright green gaze. "For now…" Her tone made her sound set and certain, but it masked an uncertainty that shook the level-headed young woman to the core.  
"Come on, this way…I know of a place we can rest for the night. In the morning, we continue"

"Where then, Viik?" The woman replied with a familiarity that came with knowing someone for years. Viik, in response, groaned. This conversation was a frequent one. Darke, Viik's shorter companion, interrupted any objection.

"We can't keep this up forever. I hate this…" As they made their way through the alley, quieter now that the danger had passed, the serious eyes of speckled gold, now reflecting odd colors in the dim lights of the street, revealed her skepticism and disdain.

"What ---Can we do though, Kat? We've been through this…So many times, it hurts. It's not- Oh, watch your step. The stairs are a bit rickety." Viikayri's argument was cut off as they began to ascend the stairs of a rather glorious, historical-looking cathedral. Or, perhaps it was that it had once been glorious. Now, however, it was as Viik had said. Rickety. And old. And possibly the most rundown building this large New England city had to offer. But it was still met with two pairs of admiring eyes. Katherine Darke stopped at the entrance, glancing up and lifting the hood of her sweatshirt from her head to better see the stone gargoyles that guarded its roof. Beautiful. Ancient.

Stepping inside, the pair found the church to be, by all appearances, empty and deserted, as Viikayri had thought it would be. Immediately, Darke moved toward the front, finding the candles. A lighter pulled from blue-denim jeans, and there soon was light. Not much, but enough to see by. And enough to see that the wax of those candles was still warm liquid. Alarmed, she stepped back as a sudden cold chill jumped into her arms and chest, and she glanced around. Viikayri stepped up beside her, placing a powerful arm around her shoulders in a friendly, comforting hug. Wax forgotten, Darke listened for the words she knew would come.

"It's not that we're criminals," the grey, lithe creature continued. "But if we allowed the authorities to find us…We'd be detained, I'd be quarantined and studied. They'd soon find out what you can do, and then they'd do the same to you. They'd think I was dangerous, and they'd find out you _are_."

With a sigh that was followed by a thoughtful, reserved silence, Darke admitted without words that she did agree. The light that danced from the candles revealed a smooth, youthful face of perhaps twenty-three. Her face was pale, although framed by jet-black, straight hair, and the flames danced reflectively within her multicolored eyes, giving her a rather ghost-like appearance. Indeed, one of her eyes was blue, the other a bright green, and both were flecked with tiny spots of gold. Perhaps the most unnerving thing about it, though, was that only the gold would show in near or pure darkness, as only a few minutes before, only adding to her rather spectral appearance. Beside her, Darke's companion stood, looking slightly more shocking; much more foreboding.

Viikayri was tall, even for her ripe age of twenty-eight. Sharp, triangular ears that reached well past the top of her head made the word 'tall' even more of an understatement. Her face appeared beaked, eagle-like, until one braved a closer look and saw the narrow, sharp muzzle of what resembled a coyote's, as it was much too slim to be that of a wolf. One half-inch of deadly, razor-sharp teeth reached from beneath her upper lip, resting against her lower jaw. Contrasting the dark tresses of her junior companion, a short mop of shock-white hair grew from her head, flying in every which-way direction, giving her a rather masculine appearance. From her slender back grew the bat-like wings, hooked at each top joint with one slender claw, matching her short, fine fur. They were flattened now, however, as her gray trench coat concealed them well. A tail rose up from within the coat, prehensile and tipped perpendicularly with a scythe-like blade, and just as sharp. She stood and walked upon the balls of her feet, her heels curving just as the claws that hooked each of her wings.

Not long ago, she had proudly finished school to be a college professor of the musical arts, though Viikayri DeLorian never found a university that would allow her to teach. Nevertheless, she loved music still, and it was no surprise to Darke that she moved directly to the pipe organ and ran her rough hand over the polished wood fondly. After a moment of thoughtful silence, Viik sat slowly on the bench and began to play a soft melody.

Katherine Darke closed her eyes as Viik began playing, swaying gently with the rhythm. She herself had once been a teacher, but not nearly as extraordinary as her partner, in her own mind. She'd been just short of her first year as a seventh-grade mathematics teacher when the impending threat of the Mutant Registry Act had forced her not only from her career and home, but from her sanity as well. In order to survive, the pair of educators had run from the law, as well as broken it to stay alive. Darke had killed her third officer just days ago, and Viikayri'd let it happen without a second thought. Each time. She had no other choice. Neither did Darke, as fate would have it. There was no disagreeing with Viik…They were both 'dangers', appearances or no.  
Slipping back from the candles now, Darke moved backward to a pew, sitting and closing her eyes, allowing the melody that Viikayri played so elegantly to slide through her and relax her tensed nerves.

* * *

They were not as alone as they thought. 

The soft notes of the small organ pipes had alerted another, hidden and perched comfortably above their heads, away from the wafting breezes that wove through the vented windows.

Kurt 'Nightcrawler' Wagner had returned to this church, what he considered his home, after two months with his newfound friends, the X-Men of West Chester, New York. He'd sought solace, prayer, peace, and time. Time to adjust, to think of the situations and questions he faced with those of the team to which he now belonged. Kneeling within the rafters well out of sight of the pair, he watched with golden eyes full of curiosity, unmoving and silent, for he'd seen Viikayri's ears in the candlelight and knew that any sound he made would surely be picked up. It seemed he was not to find any of those things he'd first sought when coming here this night, though perhaps these two would move on soon. Or perhaps he could appeal to them about Xavier's school…Maybe they would find their sanctuary there.

Indeed, none of that was to be found, this was perhaps Kurt's last night of peace in a long time. The melody, so well-played, he thought, had floated to him and he listened with a relaxed smile upon his normally intimidating façade. If they didn't see him, all would be well. They obviously meant no harm to his home.  
But it was too much to hope for.

The doors to the cathedral burst open, and a rather angry team of officers flooded in, guns already leveled upon the piano-playing mutant and her dark-haired accomplice. With a hiss, Darke turned and soon stood balanced atop the pew she'd only a half-second ago been sitting on, her eyes glaring a suden angry red that even Kurt could see from up above. The melody was cut sharply off as Viikayri also moved, turning in her seat and leaping from it. She tucked and rolled from the stage under a pew before standing, trench coat thrown to the side and wings expanded.

"Freeze!" The sharp, simultaneous order from several of the officers was picked up by both Darke and Viik's enhanced senses. This, Kurt watched with growing dread as he shifted, now with feet braced against a vertical beam and one clawed hand holding him in the air, his tail swaying from side to side absently. They were invading his home, his Church, and his sanctuary, as well as the sanctuary of these young mutants. Could they deserve this invasion? Were they criminals? It didn't matter to him as he watched, anger welling within his eyes. He didn't yet move, because his curiosity was surpassing his swiftly increasing anger, even if only for the moment.

"And…What if we _don't_?" Darke's reply, full of bitterness and sarcasm, reached the officers from her front pew. Leaping with an unnatural grace and speed, she moved from the top of pew to pew until, only a moment after they'd issued their order to freeze, she stood defiantly before the closest one. After an instant of standing as a glaring stone statue, she was moving again. His gun kicked from one hand, a blinding movement to the cop himself, was caught in her own, the butt used to knock the unfortunate officer cold. The thundering clap of gunshots pierced the darkness and silence, but Viikayri was already on the move, already beside Darke, attempting to off the aims of the cops, as well as knocking them down when she was given the chance. The butt of her own tailblade proved to be just as useful as the hilt of the gun Darke had used.

One bullet, however, was not so ill-aimed and shot through Kat's sweatshirt, leaving the black fabric stained with a dark, sickening red. She released a cat-like howl of pain, inhibitions suddenly fleeing her with this blinding, stabbing burn. Wild, adrenaline-driven instinct took over her normally rational thoughts. In a blind rage, she grabbed the officer nearest her and sank her teeth into his unprotected neck. Once she'd drank what she could of his blood within the few moments she felt she might be able to spare, he was dropped, unconscious and forgotten, and Darke turned with a menacing stare to the others that were not yet on the ground.

Viikayri stood back now, recognizing this side of her friend, and crossed her arms in a smug, satisfied manner. "Yer all in for it now"

Indeed, Darke had become a wild animal, in all but the literal sense. She was still quite human, but in her mind the sensible, reasoning part of her brain had been shut off, forced to the back by the raging instincts that had shoved themselves rather rudely to the fore. Darke's eyes flickered into a hateful crimson and small, curved talons grew slowly from her fingernails. Though pain mildly and momentarily shot through her fingers at this change, it was ignored. Teeth that had begun to grow when she'd been shot now stopped, being almost three times their original size. Darke crouched and leaped again in one smooth, fluid motion atop the chest of another officer, his gun hand grasped painfully in her tight, seemingly unbreakable grip. She screamed her rage as she used her other hand to slash at his throat, when all of a sudden, a loud rumble of surprisingly brief thunder was heard and there was a dark form between her and her prey.

"No." The figure, shrouded in darkness but revealing only golden eyes that reflected like a cat's, shoved her away from the man with surprisingly intense strength and jumped with additionally unnatural agility to his feet. The officer behind him lay unconscious, perhaps having fainted from shock. "None will die within these walls." And with those words, dripping with a thick German accent, he disappeared.

Both Viikayri and Darke, as well as the remaining handful of officers not yet dispatched, stared wide-eyed at the open space left. A second thunderclap erupted quietly from a distance, but only Viikayri turned to search the darkness of the rafters.

"God?" Darke heard Viikayri say rather quietly. "No…Can't be…What the _hell_!"

The other four officers leveled their guns at Darke, who seemed to be the greatest threat of the moment, though her frame was deceivingly small.  
The rage, hatred, and instincts were back, and she leaped with lightening-quick speed upon the closest one, slashing him across the face with her talons, though the attack was not enough to cause more than a set of open wounds, but they would most likely never completely heal. She always felt a rather sadistic triumph whenever she left marks such as the ones that now bloodied the face of her most recently chosen adversary. Her fist came crashing down on his head, and, all the while attempting to avoid other gunshots, she leaped from his frame to knock down yet another officer, this one knocked unconscious in much the same manner.

_Good_, thought Kurt as he watched from his vantage point, once again within the rafters, _she listens_. It appeared she had no interest in seeing them dead anymore. Just out of the way. And out of the way was something he could deal with.

Viikayri couldn't see him, even with her enhanced eyesight, but she could sense him…Smell him even. She was no longer interested in Darke's attacks, for she'd seen it all before and it was nothing new to her. But this figure, this teleporter, was definitely of interest.

Within seconds, Darke stood proudly near the door, her mischievously glinting eyes meeting Viikayri's as the remaining two officers slid to the floor, their heads having been slammed together with the sickening thud that had drawn Viik's attention in the first place.

"That was…" Viikayri leveled a chastising gaze at her while a hand gestured to the officer with two small holes pierced into his neck.

"Necessary." Darke supplied. "It's been a while since I've fed, Viik. I needed that." As the taller, grey mutant shrugged in response, Darke moved further inside the cathedral, following Viikayri's moving gaze to the rafters. She was intent on figuring out exactly what had happened a moment ago when she'd first tried to kill that officer.

Before she could take more than a step, however, a hand slithered from the shadows outside to grab her around the neck, catching her completely off guard. The retracted claws once again grew as Darke, eyes wild with surprise, reached around and attempted to slash at her assailant. Her natural weapons, though, found no homage, no flesh. Viikayri's own tail-blade slashed out around her friend as she tried to assist, but a foreign object, black as the darkest night and looking to be blunt, settled with a disdainful thud upon Darke's head, causing her to collapse, unconscious, in his arms. He stepped into the dim light barely shed by the candles, again dodging Viikayri's blade.

"Jessop!" Viikayri hissed, ears flattening in annoyance. He was the very last problem they needed to deal with right now. "What are you thinking! Release her"  
Taloned hands slashed toward him, but found again, no target. They went right through his body, as though he himself were but an illusion; A hologram.  
"I don't think so, DeLorian. Imagine the freedom her head will bring me once dropped before the authorities….Perhaps even the President's first guards…CIA, hmmm? They'll be rather pleased. I hear they've even managed to put together a description of her." His voice lowered as he looked with a sneer down at his silent, harmless charge. "Cop killers don't get much mercy, yanno."

Hearing only this new stranger's first couple of statements, Kurt knew that now he had to get involved, as much as he disliked the idea of what he'd already done. He bamfed from his position on the rafters and appeared between the two, his blue arms wrapping around the girl slumped in the intruder's grip, his fanged teeth bared in a successful attempt to frighten him into letting Darke go.

"You take care of him, I've got her." With those words, he disappeared in a cloud of wispy blue smoke, another brief clap of what sounded like thunder left in his wake. Darke was gone as well.

Viikayri didn't hesitate. Without the girl in his arms, Jessop was as real and solid as could be, and in a moment of his own stunned and dumbfounded staring, was slumped over one of the other fallen bodies of the officers. It took two handfuls with each hand to toss all out of the cathedral, and then she whirled around to see the stranger that had taken Darke from Jessop. He was setting her on one of the front pews. Despite the care with which he moved, he was still a stranger to Viikayri, and so still a threat. Moving on all fours not unlike the wild animal her partner had been moments before, she leaped over the pews when finally close enough and landed against Kurt's chest, throwing him to the ground and pinning him there.

"Who are you?" she demanded, tail blade pressed against his blue neck as she stood atop him, both hind and forelegs pressed stiffly against his chest and stomach. Despite her size, her weight was nothing to be concerned about.

His hands moved up above his head into a surrendering position. "I am Kurt Wagner." He fell silent for only a moment, not even long enough for Viikayri to react. Quickly, a smile spread across his face. "But in the Munich Circus, I was known as the Incredible Nightcrawler!" He spoke proudly, and with such an innocent quality to his voice that Viikayri couldn't keep him captive any longer. Slowly, she moved back from atop him, tail slipping away from his throat.

"Incredible Nightcrawler, eh?" She questioned, arms crossing as she stood up straight. He took that opportunity to leap with unnatural agility to his feet, expressing his own talents in the acrobatic arts.

She looked his dark form up and down, brows raised in what could best be described as impressed indifference. Her first thoughts when he'd appeared to save the officer from Darke and then Darke from Jessop had made the assumption that he was perhaps African American. But now, seeing him this close and this well, his skin wasn't a dark hue of brown, but rather a deep tone of navy or perhaps midnight blue. The almost-but-not-quite-prehensile tail that emerged from his own coat gave his mutant heritage away, anyway. Turning to Darke, she brushed a wisp of black hair from her friend's closed eyes. Kurt stepped up behind her, eyeing the fallen girl with sympathy.

"I know someone who could help her. Both of you." His words were tinted with that German accent, smooth with his deep voice. Viik found herself taking an odd liking to him instantly. Despite the threat she'd delivered upon their meeting, he'd reacted calmly. That was a rare quality, especially in a mutant. Perhaps it was just that Nightcrawler was so confident in his own abilities, but then again, if that held true, he would have used them.

"Oh? Well, all she really needs is ice," She explained away quickly. "She's going to have quite a bump there when she wakes up. Pain killers wouldn't hurt either. I'm sure the migraine will surpass the bruise." She glanced at him in surprise. "You don't even know who we are…" She seemed to consider this a moment before slowly offering a gray, taloned hand in an offering of first greetings. "I'm Viikayri DeLorian. This…Sleeping lump is Darke."

"Darke…" For a moment, it appeared as though Kurt expected a second name. It didn't take long before he realized he would get none. "Right. Well. Ice and pain killers, I can provide both. Be back in an instant." And with a thud-like sound that could break sound barriers, he was gone. Before Viikayri could return her eyes to Darke, he had appeared again, giving Viik an alarming start. The blade had instinctively flown toward his throat but this time, he'd been prepared. He blocked it with an arm against the blunt side, eyeing her with a scoldingly raised brow.

"I told you it would only be an instant. Relax." He offered a lightly chiding grin.

Viikayri rolled her eyes and watched as he applied a cold ice pack to Kat's head. She stirred for a moment, eyelids fluttering open soon after. When they peered into Kurt's concerned gaze and realization hit, her eyes widened in fright and her own small claws sank into his neck, almost breaking skin. Viikayri came into her line of vision and shook her head, a fast cue to Darke to let him be. Sitting up and scooting away from this dark-coated stranger, she looked between them.

"What the hell happened?" she demanded, angrily. "Who is he?" She sounded almost accusatory as she eyed Viik and thrust a gesturing hand towards Nightcrawler.

Kurt was still recovering from the shock of the odd color of her eyes as well as her near attack, and so Viikayri spoke first. "Jessop. It was Jessop. He's gone now, though. We're going to have to make quick tracks. The cops will most assuredly send backups. And soon."

"Come with me," Kurt appealed. "I know of a place in New York…Xavier's School of-"

"-Gifted Youngsters" both women interrupted. Kurt's eyes widened, impressed and wordlessly asking for an explanation. As Darke sat up from her pew and attempted to stand, Viik caught her arm without looking at her and spoke to the confused German.

"We've heard of it. So those Gifted Youngsters…Are Mutants?" She inquired, allowing Kurt to take Darke's other arm and place it over his shoulder. Darke rolled her eyes, pulling her arms away from both of them.

"C'mon, guys. I'm not lame. I can walk. Just…Owww…" She moaned and caught her head, hissing with pain as she touched the spot that Jessop had so effectively hit.

"Here," Kurt proudly produced a handful of pills, all of which Darke, of course, eyed suspiciously.

"Thanks…" she grabbed two of them and popped them in her mouth, swallowing easily. "You belong to this school, then."

"I am a teacher of the World Religions." He spoke in the same proud tone as he'd used when he'd been introducing himself to Viikayri, still inclined to keep an arm near her should she need it.

Viik and Darke exchanged glances. "Wonder if they have any openings," Viik mused, more to herself and her companion than to Kurt.

"You are teachers, too?" He seemed surprised by this, indicated by raised eyebrows and a wide grin.

Both nodded. "I teach high school Math and Social Studies," Darke began explaining. "Well, I can. And I did. Math, anyway. And Viik is certified to teach music at a college level." Kat spoke proudly of her tall, oddly-formed friend.

"You will have to speak with Professor Xavier." He produced a small cell phone from his pocket. With no argument from the women, he rang the Mansion. After a short conversation, he closed the cell phone, placed it back in his coat pocket, and nodded.

Again, the women exchanged glances. "He'll let just anyone come to the School?" Darke inquired, thankful for the darkness of the cathedral for the moment. Her headache was bad enough without any artificial light.

"Oh, yes, with open arms. Besides, any threats are dispatched quickly," It was a warning, but without the dark tones. "Within the hour, a jet will arrive to pick us up. I suggest we go to the roof."

"A _jet_?" Darke raised a surprised brow as she held her shoulder. It pained her, but not so badly that she was incapacitated. "Who is he?" Once Viik had retrieved her coat and they began to make their way up the long winding steps, she questioned Viikayri at what she thought was a safe distance from his earshot.

"A teleporter. His name is-"

"Kurt Wagner," Kurt announced from in front of them without glancing back. "But in the Munich Circus, I was known as the Incredible Nightcrawler"  
Darke watched his unarmed tail sway in front of them with wary eyes, keeping her voice low as she questioned Viik once more. Viikayri barely stifled her chuckle, and when Kat threw her a questioning glance, she only shrugged.

"Can we trust him?" Now, her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I believe so."


	2. Introductions

This is where I apologize for the quickly moving plot that comes with this chapter…Yep, everything happens far too quickly and with not enough questions asked, but…Eh. -shrug- Mebbe I'll eventually fill it out. For now, though, this is my bad, speedy chapter.

* * *

As promised, a jet arrived that was surrounded by a thick, almost unnatural cloud of fog and landed atop the cathedral's smooth center. Kurt kept an arm before both women, backing them against one of the towers. Absently, as she stared in momentary wonder as the cloud lifted, Kat placed her hand atop his arm, gripping it tightly. Kurt didn't allow either to see the smile. His arms reluctantly lowered, however, as the door to the jet opened to reveal a white-haired dark woman alongside a man with a strange, red visor across his eyes. Both regarded the women behind Kurt with suspicion for a moment, though their gazes both came to rest with an equal intensity upon Viikayri. Not for long, however, for both knew how deceiving looks could be. That was not to say that Viik had not caught their looks. Stepping from the jet, Ororo Monroe offered a hand to Darke, which the black-haired young woman accepted readily, still nursing an injured arm. She offered her name in a weak voice, clouded with exhaustion.

"Katherine Darke. Call me Darke. Math teacher."

"Really?" This seemed to interest her considerably. "Ororo Monroe. Call me Storm. I teach geography and history at Xavier's school. This is-"  
"Scott Summers," Scott stepped forward and offered her a hand, but his eyes were on Viik. "Cyclops. You are...?"

Viikayri had to keep herself from chuckling once more. "Viikayri DeLorian. Professor of Music."

"And a happy bunch of teachers we must all be, but we'd better be off if we're to see Darke and Viikayri to the mansion safely," Kurt spoke rather formally for the first time. Darke cast him an odd glance, which he met squarely, purposefully.

With a nod, Scott adjusted his visor, took a look around, and turned to move into the jet. The others followed, even Kurt, though he hesitated at the door. Darke found herself waiting for him, watching the blue mutant as he looked rather wantonly at the cathedral, though she was unaware that he was merely lamenting lost prayer time. He turned in toward the jet, caught her watching, and smiled reassuringly.

Once the jet was in the air again, Ororo skillfully taking the helm, Scott turned back and gave both a regarding glance. It was returned, twice-fold, and in silence. Finally, he spoke.

"So…What happened to your shoulder?" He inquired, watching Darke.

The mutant shrugged, then moved her hand and slowly, carefully peeled away the sweatshirt fabric, hissing when it stung. Glancing at the injury, she saw the bullet had gone all the way through the fleshy part just below her collar bone. She wasn't about to test her arm's new limits. "Troublesome cop. He regretted it, though." She normally would have said that proudly, but it came out rather quietly, as though she was not pleased with she had done.

Kurt watched this with interest, but remained silent. Scott continued his questioning.

"What brings you to the School for Gifted kids?" _Translation: What the hell do you want with us?_

An exchanged glance passed between the women, but not discreet by any means. Finally, Viikayri spoke up.

"We've been pursued by cops for some time now, because of our refusal to Register. We've heard rumors that it's no longer required…?" She remained pointedly silent on the kills of the cops, for that was Darke's tale to tell, should she ever decide to tell it. She feared for her friend with the multi-colored eyes when it was found out what her abilities, or rather, inabilities, happened to be, but she'd fought alongside Darke before, and they'd come out of it just fine. She was sure they could do it again, even in a school full of mutants.

_But perhaps this Professor X is more understanding than others…?_ Viik heard the voice within her head, and turned sharply to Darke. It'd been a long time since her friend had felt the need to speak without speaking, and for a moment, she looked questioningly at the younger teacher, who merely shrugged, an expressionless look upon her face. Viik returned the shrug, the surprise disappearing to let a more hopeful expression take over her hardened features.

Both Scott and Kurt had seen all this, Kurt having turned to face them in curiosity when Scott had asked his question, but they knew better than to inquire. Especially when such expressions went between female faces. Both knew how stubborn Jean and Ororo…Were. Scott 's expression didn't change behind his visor as the memory of one particularly serious fight between himself, his wife, and Ororo was entertained for a moment. Of course, this fight had occurred when they were but students of the school themselves, but its after-effects had taken rather long to recover from. He instantly remembered how Ororo and Jean had sided together, becoming an indestructible team as they grew slowly into X Men, and only then it was maturity and common sense that allowed Scott to be forgiven and rejoin their circle. And if he knew women, and the situation this Darke and Viikayri were in, they wouldn't even entertain the thought of saying what was going on in their heads. He tipped his visor in a tiny motion of thanks and turned back to the front, not allowing them to see the satisfied smile on his face. Xavier would take care of that. Not a damn thing went on in that school that the headmaster didn't know about. Well…Save an invasion of anti-mutant scientists and their cronies…But that could be overlooked, all things considered.

"No, it's not, actually. The bill failed as soon as it reached the Senate." Scott withheld the fact that having Mystique holding an esteemed position in the Senate had pretty much guaranteed the bill's death.The empty halls echoed softly with the group's footsteps, though Kurt performed a quick disappearing act when he remembered the kitchen and its contents, bidding farewell to Darke and Viik first. Darke jumped when he bamfed away, Viik catching her good shoulder and hissing "_Relax_!".

Darke glared up at her in reply, but said nothing. They halted, nearly running over Ororo and Scott as they'd stopped in their tracks as well. Their gazes flew to the fore, and both recognized the bald man in the wheelchair immediately as the Professor Charles Xavier, Headmaster of the School for Gifted Youngsters.

"Professor Xavier!" Darke exclaimed quietly, eyes widening in surprise. Of course, she'd expected to meet the man, but nothing could have prepared her for this moment; the meeting of such an esteemed and revered educator.

"Ms. Higgins. Mrs. DeLorian. A pleasure. Come with me." He eyed the growing stain on Kat's hooded sweatshirt for a moment, but as they were severely lacking in a medical professional, he could only suggest that Ororo wrap it when they were finished. Skillfully, the professor manipulated his wheelchair to turn around and began heading down a different corridor, towards his office. "Scott, Ororo, thank you for picking them up."

Both mutants took their cues and moved off to their own particular destinations.

Once inside his office, Professor Xavier moved behind his desk, turning to give both a regarding stare for a moment. Both shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, even though he was a mere man in a wheelchair, and both women were trained and experienced warriors. Not to mention the fact that they were teachers, used to dealing with a hoard of excitable and hormonal kids each day. It was the intensity of his eyes, the feeling that he wasn't only looking at them, but through them, into their very souls and minds. This wasn't at all far from the truth.

"We haven't been told much. Perhaps you would like to tell me why you have come to confer with us here."

Darke gulped. This nervousness was completely uncharacteristical of her. Perhaps it was his searching gaze, perhaps something more, but she couldn't know for certain and that might have been the very thing that was driving her to near madness. "Well…Er…Professor Xavier…Y'see…We'd run from the Registration Act. And while we've heard rumors that it's been denied and is no longer effective, we've attained a few…Enemies…Since then."

The thought never occurred to him to accuse them of placing his children in danger. He knew well how the mutant students and teachers handled a crisis and was proud of them, confident that they'd be able to take care of themselves should anything more happen.

"Enemies." His tone clearly asked for an explanation. Or rather, demanded one.

"There are a few detectives that would like to see us dead." Viikayri calmly interrupted. "And a few other mutants whom we've met up with in our travels. Not-so-pleasant people"

"Oh?" He leaned forward. Something was still bothering him. With any other mutants, he'd been able to reach into their minds, pull their thoughts and emotions and examine them himself. He'd seen Viikayri's thoughts, her concerns about Darke, her students, and her family, all of whom save Darke that she'd had to leave behind when the Registration Act threatened to come into play. What he couldn't read was any further into the situation with Darke herself. When he searched, he found nothing…Blank, open spaces. But the gears in her head were more than definitely turning.

While normally the inquiring stare was delivered to Viikayri, usually because of her odd appearance, this time it was directed at her, and Darke couldn't say she much appreciated it. His stare unnerved her like none other had; Usually she was the one with the penetrating glare and the upper hand.

"Miss Darke," Professor X began after a moment. "Have you ever encountered a Telepath before?"

Darke nodded as the realization of what was making him so unhappy began to dawn. "Yes…They have difficulty using their abilities on me. I don't know why; I'm not in control of it. Every once in a while they're successful, though. But most of the time, no. They can't get in." She tapped her head for emphasis before returning her hand behind her back.

One of his brows rose inquisitively, and he beckoned for her to go on.

"I had a student…His elder brother often spent time in my classroom as a volunteer. He was a telepathic mutant with…extraordinary abilities."

"So then, you too are a teacher."

Darke nodded, not giving a flicker of a thought yet to the fact that Kurt hadn't spoken into the cell phone about their professions. It hadn't exactly been the primary concern on all their minds. "Mathematics, mainly, but I can also teach social studies. I have certification for up to high school education in both." She didn't bother to hide the hopefulness that perhaps her education would be of some use to the school. She snuck a glance at her partner, who didn't seem to notice, other than flickering an ear in her direction.

Finally, the professor sat back, folding his hands and resting his chin upon the fisted result in thought. His mind shifted to the school's previous math teacher, his protégé, Jean Grey. He forced thoughts of her from his mind, focusing instead on the present situation. After a moment he leaned forward once more, nodding. "We need both a musical professor and mathematics teacher, coincidentally. Though, since the invasion, we've been quite in need of a teacher for most every subject." He chuckled almost silently to himself, though what he spoke of wasn't really funny in the least. Closing his eyes, he spent a moment calling for Scott and Ororo, before he smiled and opened them once more. "Welcome to the school. You'll begin teaching within the week, so be sure to be prepared."

Darke relaxed and released the breath she'd been holding in relief. She glanced to Viikayri, who grinned back at her with one ear pointed horizontally, giving her a rather comical, relaxed appearance. Scott and Ororo arrived promptly, Ororo's stance relaxed while Scott's appeared to be more official; Military.

"Scott, Ororo, please show Viikayri and Katherine to their respective rooms. They'll be coming on as the new Music professor and mathematics teacher." Xavier gestured to them, and it looked for a moment that Darke was going to make an objection. A second thought later, and she was silent.

Ororo's smile was brilliant. Looking from the Professor to Darke, her grin widened. "Wonderful! We've needed another for quite a while now. You'll be teaching alongside me. Maybe we should have a better look at that shoulder?"

"Thanks, Ororo…I'd appreciate it. It's beginning to get kinda painful..." They were in conversation before they even began heading down the corridor.

Scott looked to Viikayri. Viikayri looked to Scott. Both blinked, then turned and followed the other two. They remained silent, Viik because Scott said nothing, and Scott because he was turning the whole idea over in his head. To him, the finding of a new mathematics teacher finalized Jean's death. Could it be that she was really never coming back? He had been a fool, a sentimental fool, to think that somehow, some way, she'd survived the destruction of the dam.

Passing the kitchen once more, Darke was able to sneak a glance inside and spot Kurt wolfing down some chips with salsa dip. An older school-aged boy with sandy-blonde hair was staring at him in something between disgust and awed admiration. She tried to stifle a chuckle, but unsuccessfully. Both turned to face her, and she grinned sheepishly at Kurt and waved. The smile on her face indicated Xavier's answer to their queries, and so the dark mutant came out into the hall and fell into step beside her, still holding the bag of chips. The sandy-haired boy followed, as though through pure detached disinterest.

"So, Darke," Kurt spoke through mouthfuls of chips. "You're staying then? Both of you?"

"Yes…Professor Xavier made us teachers here."

"We have a music teacher now?" The sandy-haired boy inquired. It was apparent that he and Nightcrawler had been talking. His gaze had, as all others, lingered on Viikayri's face for a few moments before he remembered himself. That, and her scolding glare. She smiled as soon as his stare ceased, offering a clawed hand.

"Mrs. DeLorian at your service, kiddo. Call me Viik, though, outside of class. Who might you be?"

He accepted her hand, shaking it mildly but holding on a moment longer. "Bobby Drake…Iceman." As he spoke his X name, Viik felt a chill crawl up her arm and watched her hand in surprise as it began to frost over.

Quickly, she pulled from his grip. "Nice to meet you, Bobby. Mind you keep that skill a bit more leashed, were I you."

Had he not have received glares from both Ororo and Scott, he might have quickly thought up a smart reply. Instead, he shrugged, continuing to walk alongside them. "I suppose."

"Interested in music then?" She inquired, hoping to make it known that the incident was to be forgotten.

"Actually, yeah. I played sax and percussion in my old school band…But that was years ago."

As they entered the teacher's wing, Bobby didn't bother to disguise his uneasiness. Often he'd slipped here undetected to be with Rogue (as close to the teachers as she was kept…It was an obstacle that Bobby had to cross often), though not out in the open like this. But he wasn't about to pass up a chance to see his girlfriend again.

"Bobby…Shouldn't you be in bed?" Ororo brought up, causing an audible sigh of exasperation from the younger boy."Mmmm…Probably. If I wasn't an insomniac," he recovered quickly, sending a knowing grin her way.

"You're not an insomniac, Bobby. You just need to learn to put head to pillow every once in a while. It works, trust me." Scott spoke for the first time since they'd left Xavier's office.

Scowling, Bobby took the hint and turned, heading toward the boy wing.

Darke chuckled. "Cute kid."

"When he wants to be," Scott replied. When they reached a set of wooden doors once having led to Jean's medical facility, Ororo and Darke stepped through, Darke bidding a quiet farewell to Viik. Kurt chose to remain with his dark-skinned, white-haired friend and this new young teacher.

Carefully, Darke removed the hooded sweatshirt to reveal a white tee-shirt stained with red, teeth tightly clenched to hold in the hiss of pain that wanted to escape. Ororo shared a concerned glance with Kurt, but continued working to the best of her ability. She was able to determine that the bullet had indeed exited, and so was of no concern. When she poured the alcohol into the hole to clean the open wound of any residue from the gun powder and any dirt from the shirt, Darke let out a piercing howl that momentarily woke half the mansion and caused Scott to pause mid-step on his way to direct Viikayri to her room.

Viik froze as well, an instinctive reaction to the familiar sound of Darke's physical pain, but reassured Scott with a relieved smile before they continued on.

Ororo had nearly jumped back in surprise, but had anticipated such a reaction. Kurt had to shut his ears from the tortured sound, his face twisted as though he too felt the anguishing sting of the cleansing liquid. Once it had ended, he slowly released his ears, reopening his eyes and allowing his expression to return to some semblance of normal. Mixed with plenty of relief of his own, wager.

After the wound was wrapped, the trio began the walk down the hall, following Scott's footsteps. They moved rather slowly, as even something as unrelated to her shoulder as walking caused pain, especially since the soreness produced by the alcohol. Halting near a wooden door, Ororo pressed her hand to it.

With a short moaning creak of protest, it slid open to reveal a double bed and empty dresser, among other things that couldn't yet be seen because of the small doorway. "Your room."

She smiled and stepped through the entrance. She heard Scott speaking with Viikayri in her room across the hall just before she looked longingly at the bed, then turned to face Ororo and Kurt, who'd remained at her doorway.

"You'll be okay for the night?" Ororo smiled.

"Oh, I'm sure. I'm just going to pass right out here, see...And wake up in about, say, 16 hours? I'm exhausted."

"Couldn't tell," she winked. "You should get to bed. You've got a lot of work ahead of you, I promise. You'll need the rest. C'mon, Nightcrawler." She motioned for him to follow as she moved away, but he lingered.

"Sleep well, Darke," was all he said before slipping the door silently shut.

She nodded her thanks before slipping under the covers, thinking a quick '_Good night_," to Viikayri. Viik replied audibly from the open door to her own room.


	3. Adjustments

"There is something they're not telling us." Scott spoke solemnly, once they were out of earshot. The halls were quiet now, and their footsteps echoed down the hall. 

"Wow. You catch on quickly." Ororo tossed him a playful glance that turned serious once she saw his expression.

"There is something that each of us do not tell to others," Kurt reasoned from behind them, his own face somber. He kept pace with the other two, but it was obvious his mind was elsewhere.

"I think it's something serious," Scott turned to Kurt. "Something that matters. Not just a little secret."

"Anything that they have not said aloud has been revealed to the Professor. Or have you forgotten the headmaster's abilities?" Kurt's tone was as serious as it had ever been; He was not mocking the other teacher.

"Of course I haven't. But that would mean he's keeping secrets too."

"That would also mean it's none of our business, Scott." Ororo's tone ended the discussion.

* * *

Darke, despite the quiet and peaceful settings of the mansion, slept very little that early morning. When she'd first attempted to slip off to sleep, dreams had taunted her almost from the moment she'd closed her eyes. Dreams of complete fantasy, however morbid they were. She'd shaken for almost an entire hour after she'd seen Viikayri's wings ripped off by Jessop. Or someone who looked frighteningly like him.

The funny thing was, Jessop was her own brother. Older, yes, and raised under completely different circumstances, but Darke did indeed have Jessop's blood running through her. And she was none too pleased about it. Ever since he was old enough to discover that he couldn't be touched when they were in physical contact, he'd treated her as a puppet, a slave. Any contact that he hadn't initiated was null and void, a definite break of some law of nature. While he could pin her down and tackle her, she couldn't land one punch in defense against him. It had agitated her to all hell when she was younger. The only contact they had now was when Jessop managed to get his slimy hands on her, which was rare.

He seemed absolutely convinced that if he turned her into the authorities, he would escape the prejudice that was so often dished out against mutants.

He was delusional. Frighteningly, psychotically so.

Sitting towards the head of the bed, Darke hugged her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. Part of her abilities…Her _curse_…Was a lack of the need to sleep. She functioned properly without it, for at least three days running. The only thing that worried her was that she hadn't slept in nearly four, which explained why she'd been so relieved to finally have a bed. What was she going to do tomorrow, when she had to concentrate? Leaning her head against the wall, she released an audible sigh, ground out in frustration. She'd considered banging her head on the headboard she was leaning against, but remembered the children and other teachers trying to sleep and decided against it. She did, however, wish desperately for a soundproof wall to bang her head on when times got frusterating. Perhaps once she had some seniority under her belt she could request one, for both the sanity of herself and those of her students. Ororo would think her head banging was a health hazard.

Darke snorted at the thought. _She _was the health hazard. What was she going to do when her blood began to return to it's normal, deficient levels? She had to feed, there was only one way. Directly through her digestive system. Without drinking blood, she would die. And quickly. Miserably. She was suited now, though, for at least another two days. But to wait until the last minute was not her way of dealing with things. Well. Not things like this, anyway. Back home, she was known as the goddess of procrastination and indecision. She received scoldings daily about this from Paige.

Perhaps that was the only thing she didn't miss, besides Jessop in his entirety. She released a low, long sigh. She did miss home. Mom and Dad, Paige…Ali…Not a thought was given to Jessop, though, as one might suspect. Her hatred of him had long ago turned to the worst thing possible that could pass between siblings: Bitter indifference. She'd simply been betrayed too many times. Paige and Ali were entering their first years of college, a bit late at 20, and Darke was being forced to remain on the run and hidden for the safety of all parties involved, which only increased the bitterness. She wasn't sure just how far Jessop would go to become exempt of all mutant charges, as foolish as it sounded to her. She never found out exactly where he got his delusions about being accepted into 'normal' society, but she'd had a strong suspicion it had to do with the group he'd chosen to hang out with throughout high school. The twins'd had very little knowledge of the questionable clique of their eldest sibling, but as Darke was only a year behind him, she'd known without wanting to the company he kept. She remembered the involuntary shudder that had crept up her spine every time she passed them in the halls, undoubtedly caused by the off-balance energies and emotions she'd picked up from them. She knew it was a normal phase for a kid to go through, hating the world and everything in it. These kids, though, seemed to take it just a few steps too far. Indeed, hers was one of the towns in which rumors floated of animal sacrificial rituals, and she couldn't help but suspect Jessop and his…'Friends'. She grumbled in disgust at the thought of them. In her eyes, they'd ruined him. But he'd always been a _little_ off. Perhaps they'd just brought it out. She still resented _them_. Thoroughly.

And what was this situation that she and Viik'd now found themselves in? Her mind had skillfully, effectively forced a change of topic. She'd heard very little of the school prior to meeting Kurt. Only that it was highly esteemed for producing well-taught professionals who went on to become doctors, lawyers and such. Nobel Prize winners, the like. She'd not caught onto the pattern before, but they all had indeed proven to be mutants, either in coming out from the school or later on in life. The ones she'd taken the time to research, anyway. To be a teacher of such successful pupils seemed like a distant dream. Hell, it was the very reason she'd become a teacher; she knew values and morals were instilled early in life, and that of course, aside from parents, teachers had a distinct effect on how young people grew up. She had her own teachers to thank for that theory, as well as proven studies and statistics. She wanted to be one of the positive influences on the coming generations, even if it was only minute. And now it seemed too good to be true. A shiver of unease crept up her spine. Things were going too well. Despite not being able to contact her family and tell them that her greatest dream had become a reality, it all seemed…Surreal.

* * *

Before she knew it, someone was tapping her on the shoulder, and she realized that a rather hateful light was shining towards her closed eyes.

"Lemmeh'lone." She swatted away the hand that had tapped her, rolling over so that her back was to the 'assailant'.

"Geddup," was Viikayri's annoyed reply. She knew better than to continue tapping, for more than once she'd almost lost a limb in attempt to get Darke from bed. Waking Darke from her rare night's sleep was like waking a bear from hibernation, in difficulty and in danger.

"Nu. Lemmehlone." Darke growled, pressing her face farther into her pillow.

Slowly, an evil smile spread across Viik's face. "I'll get water. Ice cold. Bobby Drake style."

"Yeah…Because we all know you both have a death wish," Darke's quick reply was muffled only slightly by her pillow, still clenched tightly.

Viik rolled her eyes again, arms crossing over her chest, her tail twitching to emphasize her agitation. "C'mon, Kat, just geddup!"

"Annawanna. Lemmehlone."

Viik threw up her hands in despair and stamped out of the room, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "stubborn, lazy youth".

"Lazy!" Darke leaped out of bed, instantly awake. Her hair was heavily disheveled, her clothes wrinkled badly, and her eyes were narrowed in a glare that would have made SabreTooth cower. Beware a woman forced out of bed at what seemed such an ungodly hour.

Viik turned, her expression maddeningly calm, at least, maddening to Darke, and smiled triumphantly. "Thought that would get you moving."

"You rat."

………………

Breakfast had already been served in the main dining room, and so she'd had to catch a quick bite to eat in the kitchen. It wasn't anything large, for she felt she hadn't earned anything yet. Darke was a firm believer in earning her keep, and so far, it seemed she'd done nothing but cause the staff trouble. She knew that would change soon enough; she had confidence in her teaching ability and relations with kids. And so scrambled eggs it was. As she stood over the stove, poking at the eggs with the spatula, two younger children walked in, appearing to be just as hungry as she. Smiling brightly at them, even though they stared at her warily, she asked cheerfully if they wanted some eggs, moving to the refrigerator already to grab more.

Both nodded, still speechless, one from the sight of her eyes, one still recovering from the fact that they'd wandered in to find a stranger. Taking the initiative, she put the carton of eggs on the table and offered a slender hand to the smallest, who was staring at her through coke-bottle glasses that were alarmingly thick, even for coke-bottle glasses. He stared at it for a long thoughtful moment, before glancing back up at her, a brow raised.

"I'm Katherine Darke. Everyone just calls me Darke, though…I'll be teaching math here pretty soon." It was faintly clear that she was nervous.

Jones seemed satisfied with this. Taking her hand, he shook it, his handshake surprisingly strong for a boy of his size. "Jones. Just Jones. And sure. I'm hungry."

Her grin softened, and she turned to the taller boy, whom she had to resist giving a cheek pinch. As he shook her hand, he smiled, a bit more at ease than his younger friend. "Me too. I'm Artie."

Even as Darke turned away to add more eggs to the gooey mess she'd already produced, she thought she caught a glimpse of a black tongue as Artie spoke, but she'd learned to expect the unexpected even in the short time she'd been here. Just on the way to the kitchen from her room after scolding and repeatedly insulting Viikayri, she'd seen one girl walk through two different walls, heard another scream louder than she could (Peter, get OUT of here!), and spied an older boy concentrating with all his might on a levitating corner table. Thankfully, the table had been void of decoration. He hadn't seen her, though she could imagine the crashing sound that might have resulted if he had. He'd held the expression and appearance of someone who'd been caught at this sport before and had been scolded repeatedly for it.

The eggs were quickly finished, seasoned, and placed on three different plates on the island counter. The three ate rather quickly, the two boys appearing to have another agenda to get about, just as Darke had. If she was to be working with Ororo, she had to get to one of her classes and see just how the woman taught. That would be the wisest course of action for now, considering that she most likely wouldn't have her own room to decorate. She began to wonder, as she finished her eggs, if Viikayri would have luck getting Professor Xavier to bring in more instruments than she'd already found.

Apparently, before she'd awaken Darke, Viikayri had gone to investigate the old choir room, which she would be using to teach her classes. There were some flutes in cases, a tuba that looked as though it'd seen much better days, a trap set with half the pieces punched through, and one lone clarinet that looked as though it'd been used to play baseball. She'd found no case for that one. She'd also mentioned to Darke the need for sheet music, which made sense. Very little could be played without it.

Once she'd seen to it that the children headed to class, she went about writing a letter to her sisters, to let them know she was alright and had found a place to live safely. They, of course, knew about her abilities, though not the extent of them, and so they were her lifelines. She could talk about anything with them, though she kept this one short and to the point; They wouldn't even be able to reply. She wasn't giving a return address, and had planned to mail it from a town near the edge of New York State. It was just like her snake of a brother to have been keeping an eye on their incoming mail.

That soon was the end of that. Finally, she meandered through the halls, following her sharp senses to Ororo's classroom. She paused at the open door, leaning in the entrance and crossing her arms before Ororo glanced up from helping one of the children to see her. Smiling kindly, she gestured to an empty desk near the back and mouthed 'Hey, hun," before continuing to see to Jubilee's geography paper.

Slowly, Darke sank into the seat and crossed her arms, watching with a slow smile on her face. It'd been a long time since she'd sat in on another class, it was truly like coming home.

* * *

Ororo really was skilled. She could deal with any problem that arose (and several did arise) quickly and fairly. Her lesson plans, upon the various subjects they were, were executed efficiently and in a way that the points were made clear to each child, no matter their age. Darke noticed that a rather young looking child, perhaps nine or ten, had a question about an obtuse angle in geometry. By the time Ororo was done explaining his problem to the class, all understood the factor completely and also had an introduction in the other angles as well.

Lunch time rolled around quickly, especially since Darke had been late for breakfast. Ororo invited her to dine in her classroom, where she usually ate alone, or perhaps with Scott or the Professor. Darke gratefully accepted the invitation, though was strangely reminded of being the new girl in school.

Viikayri joined them, having completed a list of essentials for the class that was to start in three days. She was in a rather cheerful mood, as she'd spoken with Professor Xavier and learned that all she needed would be delivered shortly. They talked amiably through lunch, though Viik told Darke that later on, they would have to speak in private. Her younger friend had raised her eyebrows at this, but nodded.

Later, after classes had finished, Darke wandered to her room, frowning at the emptiness of it. In her college dorm, she'd constantly kept the walls and furnishings covered with posters, nick knacks, and other things that were just…_Her_. But she couldn't anymore, all that had been lost to her. She could feel the bitterness beginning to well up once more as she sat on the bed, but it was interrupted, thankfully, by Viikayri's entrance.

Darke turned to her and grinned, though only until she remembered Viikayri's mentioning the need to talk in private. Well, this was as private as they could get. Her expression turned somber, to match Viik's, and she gestured to the bed with a hand.

"Have a seat."

"Will, thank you." Viik replied with a small smile. She didn't hesitate to come straight to the point. "Kat, we can't be forgetting about those who pursue us. Jessop will find a way to figure out where we are. When that happens…"

Darke swore. "I don't want to move on from here, Viik. I like this place."

"Then it's time we fought him off."

Once again, Darke swore. "We can't. Once he gets his hands on me, there's nothing that can stop him. Freaky bastard. And what about the kids?"

"Well, if you don't want to move on, that's a risk we're all going to have to take. It's not like they wouldn't be prepared. Remember? Charles Xavier is a-"

"-Telepath," Darke interrupted, turning from Viik to look toward her dresser, biting her lip. "But he can't read me. Maybe it's time we had a talk."

"He might be angry," Viikayri pointed out.

"No doubt. But...He's gotta know. And the kids…The other teachers, they deserve to know, too."

"It would be better not to live here under false pretenses." Viik spoke quietly, looking down at her tail as it twitched idly on the floor

Darke nodded, then stood after another long, thoughtful pause. "Alright. Well…I'll let you know how it went."

Viikayri snorted. "Good luck, Darke."

Darke turned to face her close friend, watching her in silence for a moment. "Thanks, Viik." In the next second, she was out the door. "See you later."


	4. Facing the Professor

I'd revised this chapter quite nicely, adding in a couple of turns I wanted to use later in the story. Unfortunately, they were all lost and you get stuck with the old, semi-revised version. OO

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Katherine Darke didn't even realize she was wearing the dread she felt until she passed Kurt Wagner, a newfound friend, on her way to Professor Xavier's office. Though, she didn't even really see Kurt until he halted her hurried pace by placing a clawed hand on her upper arm.

"Miss Darke?" he paused for a beat, recieving no response. "Are you okay?"

She hardly heard him speak. Her eyes widened and she jumped a bit, instincts raging for one uncontrollable moment, till she turned to look first at his hand, then up at his face. Hers was such a numb expression, Kurt winced and dropped his hand. When recognition hit, though, she smiled warmly.

"Kurt! Hi." One arm raised to rub the back of her neck, the other shifted in her pocket.

Kurt recovered quickly enough. "Hallo, Miss Darke. What has you so upset?"

Kat had to think about it a moment. Her mind had been everywhere but there. "Oh. I've got to go talk to the Professor."

"About what? You're not leaving us, are you? So soon?" Kurt sounded sincerely worried.

She could at least practice what she'd say. She hesitated a moment, then told him of Jessop. "There's this man who- Well, wait, you kinda met him. The one who attacked us after the cops had been...Taken care of." She froze a second, peering up at him. Wait..Had he really seen that? "…In the church."

"Yes, I remember. Are you worried he will continue to search for you?"

She nodded. "My brother doesn't give up easily. He has the Darke stubborn streak"

Nightcrawler absorbed this bit of news rather well. "He is your brother?"

Again, Kat nodded.

"I think you have nothing to worry about…Once the Professor knows, he will keep an eye out. We all will."

Kurt's words were meant to reassure, but Kat still felt the urge to doubt them. She did flash a smile in thanks, though, before turning once more and heading to the Headmaster's office. He watched her for a long moment, shook his head slowly, and continued on his way.

Kat stood outside the office for a moment, collecting her breath and thoughts, before finally she sighed and pushed open the door.

………………….

Jessop Darke hadn't slept well that night. He'd waken not long after Katherine and Viikayri had left in the jet, though he'd not heard the sounds of it all, except for perhaps in his dreams. When his eyes had opened to spy a cop's badge lying next to him, and the owner not far from that, his mind had shot to almost instant alertness, and he'd made fast tracks out of there, not even bothering to check the cathedral again. He knew they'd be long gone from there.

But that didn't stop his constantly plotting mind from searching for ways to possibly locate the pair once again. There'd been no word from any of his connections, and indeed, he had many connections, though all were proving useless.

He'd thought the whole situation really rather humorous. He'd begun with his idea that turning his sister into the authorities for failure to Register, but that had gone down the tubes when the Registration Act had fallen under. He still, to this day, damned Senator Kelly to Hell.

He'd seen Katherine feed, however, and kill a cop in the process. He knew there had to be more. Turning a cop-killer into the authorities was almost better than his first plot.

Pure spite, the unquenchable thirst for revenge, drove him. That bitch had killed his wife, taken his children from him. She killed police officers who were only trying to uphold peace. She deserved to die...And if she had to serve a lifetime sentence in a steel cell until she did, all the better.

………………..

Professor Xavier leaned back into his chair, folding his hands over his lap, peering at Katherine with a searching look that continued to send chills down her spine, even though she knew he couldn't read him. At this point, anyway. There were times Anthony Boreor couldn't read her, and times he could. The concern that it would be the same with the headmaster itched at her sanity.

She took a deep breath, almost visibly wincing against the reprimand that was sure to come. Only none...Did.

"We will see if this brother of yours makes any move. So far, he cannot know yet that you have come here. Optomistically, he will give up once your tracks are covered and finding you becomes frustratingly difficult. Realistically, if he does find you here, and decides to trespass in order to apprehend you, he will be taken care of."

Kat nearly melted with relief. It was reminiscent of the moment he'd agreed to allow them to stay on as teachers. She smiled gratefully at him, though he continued to speak before she could reply.

"We take care of our own, Miss Darke. You are safe here."

She nodded. "Thank you, Professor. I...Must admit, I was a bit nervous at first. I mean, with the students here and everything…" She cast a pointed glance behind her to indicate those surrounding them within the mansion that were learning and teaching.

"The children have been through a lot. They know how to handle themselves. And their abilities. I wouldn't worry about them. What you might want to begin concerning yourself with is preparing your lesson plans. You'll be working with Ororo at first, but once you have adjusted to our manner of teaching and the curriculum, you will eventually be getting your own classroom so that we can better divide up the classes. Once this happens, it will make things much easier for both you and Storm."

"Storm?" Completely at a loss, Darke racked her memory. "Oh." Recognition and realization dawned gently on her, as did wonder. "Professor? Can I ask another question?"

He nodded and gestured, speechlessly pressing her onward.

"Why is she called Storm? And Scott…Cyclops?"

For a few moments of stony, thoughtful silence, Darke was afraid he wouldn't answer, or perhaps reprimand her for over-abundant curiosity. It became apparent that he wasn't going to chastise her for her question a moment later, but he still debated on his words. Finally, he spoke.

"Miss Darke, what are the gifts you possess?"

A question for a question. Only fair, she reasoned.

"You really want to hear it, Professor? Do you have time? It's kind of a long story."

Again, Charles nodded and gestured for her to answer. It was obvious that he was a man used to not requiring many words to get his point across.

She took a deep breath and prepared to tell the story she'd not mentioned since she'd sat Viikayri down nearly three years ago, when they were both still in college.

"I have a blood deficiency. Disorder. Whatever. I'm not sure what exactly to call it. Neither do the doctors I gave up on seeing when I was seventeen. Anyway, for some reason, when I hit puberty, my blood cells began to produce, die off, and reproduce at an extremely high rate. Because of this, my immune system and healing rate are fast. Incredibly so, in fact. They're miracles, both of them, to those doctors."

At this, Charles nodded approvingly, and Kat could see the gears turning in his head. She gulped and continued. "But this also leaves me with a low red blood cell count. Really low. Irreplaceably low. With my blood as it is, I could go into a sort of diabetic coma without finding a replacement. And the amount of surgeries I'd have to have…Well…" She chuckled nervously. "Let's just say the kind of insurance that could pay for those doesn't exist."

She paused for a moment, unsure of how to continue. The next part was fairly simple. To her, anyway. Simple, but pivotal. To the professor, she could easily be seen as a monster. Charles leaned forward, a question in his eyes.

"So then, how do you get the red blood cells you need to stay well?"

Again, she gulped. "From…Others."

One brow lifted. Suddenly, Darke felt as though she were quaking where she stood. "Others." It wasn't a question for clarity, it was a statement. And a demand for an explanation, as he so skillfully and frequently executed.

"Yes. Others. Professor-"

"Please, call me Charles."

She nodded, her throat desperately dry. "My blood wasn't the only thing to change once I hit adolescence. My bone structure changed in solidity, and my teeth…Well…If you hadn't noticed…" She flashed a quick, toothy grin, in part to keep her from collapsing into a shaking heap.

The brow lifted again. He had noticed her canines' length and shape, though hadn't focused on them before. Now that he saw them…Well, damn, they were nearly as long as Viikayri's, without overtaking her upper lip.

"You're a…" He hesitated to say it, for once very uncertain.

"Vampire, Professor."

That same damned brow lifted again.

"In more ways than one." She paused once more, until given gestured permission to continue. "My internal clock is also abnormal. On average, I am required to sleep about fourteen hours, at most, for every three days. During those three…Sometimes four, days that I am awake and active, my mind remains completely alert. There's no fatigue, even if I don't get fourteen hours of sleep. Sometimes, I only need six. It just depends."

"Insomnia?" He was being very quiet. Uncomfortably quiet.

"I've thought about that. But I don't think so, because it's not that I can't sleep, it's just that I'm too awake to sleep."

The silence from her that followed seemed to indicate that she was finished. When he inquired with a glance, she shook her head. There were two more things that left no doubt in her mind that she was what so many in this day and age referred to as a 'mutant'. She raised her hand before her, focusing far more intently upon it than she needed to. But it was a distraction from the critical gaze of the professor, and she welcomed it. After a moment, her cat-like talons formed from her fingernails.

Both brows rose this time, but the glimmer of amusement didn't reach Darke's eyes. "These…I can't explain. I don't know how it happens, though Viik thought it might have something to do with my hyper-reproducing blood. Super growth, or something. But that can't explain their shape."

"Indeed, it cannot. Kat, there is something that has been tugging at my mind for just a few moments. How do you intend to obtain the blood cells you will need to avoid going into the coma?"

She bit her lip. "I don't know, Professor. But the teachers, and the students, are safe. I promise."

"That, I don't doubt." He was himself again, and the thought that he may have considered Darke a threat to the staff and children clearly seemed obsurd to him. "It is you that I am concerned about."

"Yea. Well, don't be concerned. I have my ways, and they won't involve the school. I've taken care of my problem for a long time on my own." _I'll continue to do so._

The last, firmly-said statement did not reach Charles' ears, but rather, his mind. He seemed unperturbed, as so many had been nonplussed when she'd chosen to reveal the ability she possessed to project her thoughts. Instead, a half-grin played at one corner of his mouth as he tilted his head forward, only slightly. _Can you receive thoughts as well? Read minds?_

_No. Only when they are sent as you just did. _Silence had filled the room, but the communication continued all the same.

He nodded, and his thoughts drifted back to what she'd said. He did trust her judgment, but the lingering worry for her would remain. Her answer to his first question, however, did assist him in answering hers. After having sized her and her gifts up, he decided she could be made aware of the X Men. Perhaps one day, she would see fit to join them.

"Ororo and Scott are part of a mutant team known as the-"

"X-men." Realization dawned almost painfully on Darke. "So that's what X means. Xavier?"

"You've heard of us, then?"

She snorted her brief laughter. "Yeah. Most have."

He shrugged. "I did not think we could be kept covert for long. Perhaps it is better that we are known."

"Maybe." Darke wasn't sure she was ready to consider this yet. She was having more than a little trouble with reality at the moment.

"That is why they are also called Storm and Cyclops. They are the names that they operate under. And have adopted as their own."

Slowly, she nodded. "I understand. Thank you, Professor."

He nodded again, smiling, and gestured to the door.

"I'll get right to work on those lesson plans, then." He hadn't thought her a monster! He'd accepted her! She was happy, almost giddy, as she stepped out the door, turning to find Kurt just beyond it.

Stiffening as she nearly collided with him, she smiled a moment later when she was able to see who he was.

"Relax. You must learn that." He grinned back down at her, hands on his hips. "All is well, then?"

She nodded, relief shaking her.

"As I thought it would be. You must have more faith, Darke." His hand slipped into his pocket, and for a moment, he fingered the rosary that always rested there.

A smile drifted across her features, and she stepped from in front of him and dismissed herself with a wave. "I'll talk to you later, Kurt. I've got lesson plans to draw up." Her excitement couldn't be hidden.

"Right then. You get to those."

……………………

Kat found her companion just where she thought she'd be. The mutant was sitting in her own room, at her desk, tapping a pencil against her head. The younger teacher almost hated to disturb her, but as she crept up behind Viikayri, the professor's sharp ear pivoted in place to face Kat herself. Normally it was a rather unnerving gesture, but Kat smiled when Viik didn't look up, for that was an invite. Viik's super-sensitive nose probably scented her approach from across the mansion. Not moving her glare from the paper before her,Viik shifted in her seat a moment before finally speaking.

"So?"

Kat grinned widely. "It's okay! He says he'll keep an eye out, but he thinks I'll…Well…We'll be safe here. And…" she sat down at the edge of her friend's bed before continuing. "Viik, get this. I told him about my abilities. Everything, even the disorder."

At this, Viikayri looked at her with a critically raised brow, but said nothing, only waiting for Kat to continue.

"He doesn't care. In fact, he's worried I won't find the sources I need. I think." Kat paused at this, a thoughtful expression taking over her face.

"Doesn't it concern him that you have to kill in order to live? Or at least…Almost kill?"

"I didn't exactly say that part…But I think he assumed it. I mean, he's anything if not sharp as a needle. He'd have caught on…Wouldn't he?" Kat glanced up to Viikayri from the floor with a hopeful look in her eyes. Viik didn't try to humor her. She knew that to do so would only anger her younger friend.

"Possibly. I don't know, Kat. We'll have to wait and see. He doesn't seem the type to stand by and allow someone to die."

"Mmmm," was Kat's thoughtful reply.


	5. Nightmares

And now, for your viewing pleasure, the revised and edited Chapter Five. Suggestions for a more appropriate (or just better sounding?) chapter title are welcome, as is R&Ring. Encouraged, in fact. One can never have enough feedback.

**Disclaimer**: Once again I feel the need to disown the Canon Characters of the X-men...Unfortunately, my creativity does not extend that far. OO However, Katherine Darke, Viikayri DeLorian, and the ever-spiteful Jessop Darke are **mine**, and I will bite for them.

* * *

"_Katherine Darke_!" The urgent command in Viikayri's voice pierced through Darke's barrage of nightmares that had caused her to cry out in a deafening, high-pitched scream. Even that had not waken the younger teacher. 

Lightning flashed behind her eyelids as Darke shot straight up in bed, hindered only by firm hands over her shoulders. Her alert, wide and terrified eyes met those of her grey-scaled companion, narrowed and shining with concern. Pressing a hand to her temple, Viikayri backed away and slowly sank down onto Darke's bed. Breathing heavily and wiping cold sweat from her brow, Darke watched and trembled, wrapping chilled arms around still-blanketed knees.

Viik closed her eyes tightly, still with one hand pressed to the side of her head as though dealing with a repeatedly disobedient child.

"Damn it, Kat. One of these days you're going to make me go deaf." Viik's hiss was sharp as she tried to calm the ringing in her head.

Shifting uncomfortably, Darke set her chin atop aforementioned knees. "I'm sorry."

Viikayri could only sigh. "Don't be. It's not your fault. But I'm going to buy you a cork, I swear." She reached over and grasped her friend's shoulder, this time in comfort rather than restraint. "What-"

"-The bloody _hell _was _that_!"

Both young women glanced up from the patterned quilt at which both had been staring in silence. Looking to the door, Darke ducked her head, wishing suddenly to make herself very scarce. Kitty Pryde stood _**in** _the door, arms crossed and a silent whine on her pouting lips. By now, three weeks after having been accepted to teach at the School, both young professors were well accustomed to Kitty's antics and abilities, and she to theirs. A moment later, padded footsteps approached that were easily detected by Viik's hearing. Sighing, she stood and walked to the door, patting Darke on the shoulder as she passed. Opening the door placed Kitty in open space, but the young girl still looked rather triumphant. Poking her head through the door, she spotted Jones creeping quickly down the hall towards them.

Seeing the professor, he paused, hesitant now as he seemed to suddenly realize he was on forbidden ground. "Is-"

Viik nodded, and he hushed. "Everything's okay."

"I heard a-" He continued, but again fell silent as Viikayri explained.

"Ms. Darke had a nightmare. She screams really loud…Louder than Siryn, when she has those kind. Everything's fine, Jonesy."

Nodding solemnly, the child turned without another word and padded down the way he'd come. He was stopped, though, as it seemed the halls finally came alive with opening doors and heads popping into the hall, damn near two full minutes after the piercing scream that had alarmed the tiny insomniac who'd been innocently watching tv.

"What…?" Pretty much a unanimous call. And rather loud. Any who (by some miracle) hadn't heard Darke the first time, would certainly be roused by the clatter of voices rising in the Teacher's hall.

"What's going on?" A second phase of the first, mostly the groggy voices of the men folk: Scott stumbling from his room, Logan following from his door across the hall, glaring at each other as they realized they spoke in unison. Remy was guilty of the same, though drew much less menace than did the other two. Kurt stepped from his room not a half-second later, his expression halfway between tired and fierce, as though prepared for a fight.

"Is everyone okay?" Ororo's calm voice infiltrated both the hostility and the alarmed aura developing in the halls as slowly she walked past Jones toward Darke's room, placing her hand on his shoulder momentarily as she did so. Glancing down at him, she didn't appear to be reassured by his nod as he continued toward the common areas, answering the irresistable call of the TV. Looking again toward Viikayri and Kitty, Storm continued moving toward their room, her questions within her concerned eyes.

"Yes, Ororo…Everything's fine," Viik nodded solemnly, frowning deeply at Scott and Logan. Deciding it best to ignore their antics for the moment, she knelt to reassure Kitty.

"A _dream _did _that_?" Kitty questioned before the older mutant could utter a word. Darke stepped from behind Viikayri, her expression deeply apologetic.

"Look, guys, I'm sorry…But it wasn't anything…I just dreamed…and I can't control my voice when I'm sleeping." She _did _look as though she wanted to find a hole and bury herself there.

"Great," Logan rolled his eyes stormed he stormed back into his room, unaffected by her pre-existing guilt. "Another Siryn." The comment was muffled as he shut his door, and Darke looked crestfallen.

"-But-"

Scott scoffed. "Don't worry about him. He's just a crabby rat when he's woken up. You okay? What'd ya dream about?"

Realizing that there was no danger and any excitement had passed, the hallway cleared of heads, aside from Scott, Ororo, Kitty, and a lingering, hesitant Kurt.

"Kitty…To bed." The student wordlessly obeyed Ororo's soft order, disappearing promptly towards the girls' rooms. Glancing back to Darke, Ororo watched while Darke wrung her hands, still trying to answer Scott's question.

"I don't remember exactly. But…We should all sleep, eh?" Changing the subject only worked on the surface, it appeared. Reluctantly, all drifted back into their rooms, Ororo not leaving without a reassuring squeeze to Darke's shoulder.

"Sleep well. Let me know if you need to talk," With a meaningful glance at Viikayri, clearly the same was to be directed to her, Storm slowly slipped back into her room.

Checking the hall as Viikayri headed back into her dorm (she was quite persistant in sleeping near Darke when she had nights like these...Closer access meant it was quicker to shut her up if she screamed), Darke's grim eyes met Kurt's concerned gaze for one frozen moment. No words spoken, no expressions changed. For a second, neither moved. Finally, she sniffed, clearing her nose, ducked her head back inside and turned to Viik. "That can't happen again," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh?" Viik sat on her bed, arms crossed, wings folded at her back, clearly not convinced. "And _you're _going to stop it, then?"

Her sarcasm bit into Darke's already smarting pride. Wincing, she slid onto her own bed, grasping for her pillow and planting her face into it. "Phuphoph."

Very Xavier-like, one of Viikayri's eyebrows rose. "You don't say...?"

Lifting her head, she cast a death glare at her friend. "Fuck off."

* * *

Leaving one hand limp on the slowly-closing door, Kurt stepped inside his room and looked silently at the floor, unwilling to look anywhere else at the moment. The overwhelming sensation of déjà vu was still spinning his mind, he nearly had to set his tail on the ground to stabilize himself. _What on Earth…?_ Almost the instant that the knob had gently clicked closed in the door latch, the sense was gone, leaving him just as confounded as the moment it had swept over him. He glanced up at the small nail in the very center of the door that indicated at one time these rooms may have been used by the younger students, he blinked in musing contemplation. Even then, the teleporter couldn't decide if he was grasping for that moment of fleeting retrospection or trying to distract himself away from it. His tail twitched with sudden aggravation, and a moment later, an abrupt but muffled bamf erupted and the faint smell of brimstone could be detected. Kurt was perched on the very edge of his bed, across the room from the door. Staring at the door frame closest to Darke's room as though it might bark at him, he glared daggars into the door, concentrated as stone. _What had…Who_- He couldn't sort his flying thoughts. Shifting his weight and leaning one hand against the wall while the other kept his balance at his feet, between sharply bent legs and supporting a slouched, leaning chest, he didn't once divert his hardened gaze. His tail thrashed back and forth, but as far as Kurt was concerned, it didn't exist. Where had he been when he'd felt slapped in the face with bewilderment? What had he been thinking? Doing? Watching Miss Munroe…Glancing back to Darke, attempting to convey a silent message…_Don't take Logan's words to heart_…But- _Wait_! 

She'd-

There had-

And then the-

…Gone.

_Damn it._

Thrusting his head savagely forward, forehead now creasing in angry disappointment, he shoved his hand into the pocket of his slacks, stretching one leg before him in the utmost of practiced ease. Pulling out his ever-present Rosary, he leaned rather than fell back on his bed, placing the Cross on his small, standard bedside table. _Damn it all. _He'd seen that look on Darke's once before…With those same exact features; the masked loneliness, the desperately (but poorly) concealed fear, the practiced façade of indifference. And it had drawn much the same reaction from him. Immediate empathy, regret for his action…Or in this particular case, inaction. He remembered now the feeling he'd had of wanting to turn back time, change the past in some way…He couldn't even be sure of what. So far away seemed yesterday, he felt suddenly very old, as though what he was remembering was ages ago, long since passed. Perhaps that was just the déjà vu trying to confuse him even more than he now was. Laying his head against the pillow, he didn't even think of the usual gratitude he felt toward Professor Xavier and the others for the roof, warm bed, and three solid meals as he normally did when laying down for his nightly rest. Keeping his golden, reflective eyes open and focused on empty space, Kurt reached toward his Rosary, finding it more by habit than sight. Never had his chest been so full of uncertainty, not even when he'd waken to find himself looming over the President of the United States, watching the once proud and brave man cower in terror at his demonic, freakish appearance. Grasping the still-warm, precious metal tightly, he shut his eyes, silently praying his ritualistic meditation in hopes of some semblance of peace. His lips moved with each word, but so quickly that even a talented lip reader would have difficulty keeping up and comprehending. Slowly, he drifted into an unsteady sleep, the covers scrunched, forgotten, beneath him.

* * *

Darke's wasn't the only rough night. Jessop and his lasting encounter with the spiced rum bottle waiting in his chilled, beat-up old Volvo had left a pain of a headache as he woke up stiff-necked and sore. Had it not been for his sudden, temporary sensitivity to sunlight and the jarring pain behind his eyes, however, he might never have heard that broadcast. Even now, he grins in memory. 

"…_Several units taken_…" No reception…Try again, little to the right…He'd been debating for some time on getting a digital radio...Now he cursed himself for having decided against it. "…_loaked…Armed and…gerous…Headed west, the suspects are assumed to be mutants; One witness claimed to have seen_ …" Damn it.

Had it not been for the word 'mutants', Jess might have lost interest right then, opting to roll over and catch a few more zees rather than catch up on 'The World Today." But as he reminisced for a moment on the night in the church, he forbade any thought of ignoring that broadcast. Gently, with the utmost care, he gave the dial one more twitch, and finally, the radio was static free. "_Again, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to stress the fact that these mutants are armed and dangerous. They will stop at nothing, and the Department of Homeland Security, in consultation with the Homeland Security Council, has made the decision to raise the State threat level from an Elevated to High risk of a mutant terrorist attack…Level Orange. Witnesses reported the jet containing the fugitives was headed West. Again, folks, that was West. Keep your eyes peeled, and be sure to contact the authorities immediately if you see anything. Apparently, though, get this, guys. Apparently the jet went invisible-_"

From there, the DeeJay proceeded to make a few different snide comments, but Jess promptly killed the audio. It was starting to give him a headache.

…West, eh? A slow smile spread across his face. And _who _might have been going West? With _what _mutants?


End file.
